How Old Is Ariana Grande Daughter Novels & Stories

“Just one party. No Westbrook security. No house curfew. Just us, music, and maybe a few bad decisions.” Ariana frowned, arms crossed on the windowsill of her massive room, the night wind brushing her curls. “My dad’s going to kill me if he finds out.” Tessa snorted. “You think the media’s obsessed with your reputation? Girl, your dad’s obsession is worse. You’re nineteen, not ninety. Live a little.” Ariana chewed her bottom lip. Something in her burned for freedom—just one night without being shadowed, judged, protected like a porcelain doll in a glass case.

Her words hung in the air, leaving her daughters to wonder what their father's reaction would be. The silence in the dining room was deafening, and Donatella couldn't stand it any longer. "Well, I don't care right now. I need to start preparing for my 20th birthday is two months away. I'm going to talk to my friends and plan something." She said while rolling her eyes. Ariana's face lit up with excitement. "Can I come with you?" Ariana's voice was childish and full of hope, but Donatella's response was firm. "No, I'll handle it myself, Ari."

Then, in a confused tone, a girl asked, “Why is it here?” Wearing a pink silk gown, Aria clutched the lily bouquet and stared it in awe at those women who had collapsed in front of her. Aria was dressed up and put on heavy makeup. As a result, no one suspected that she was under the age of 18. They all knew she was Alice’s adopted daughter, but they had no idea how old she was. Under everyone’s gaze, Aria chewed her gum and handed the bucket to the woman next to her, “I am not even 18 yet, so I don’t need this!”

I asked. "Yes. Astrid is in Boracay with her friends." My ears rang the moment I heard my daughter’s name. "Y-You allowed her?" I blurted out. Mama and Dauxfer both looked puzzled at my reaction. "I-I mean, how old is she now?" "She’s 20 years old." "W-What?!" I quickly shut my mouth and lowered my head in embarrassment. Radiant! You are Menchie! "Menchie? What’s wrong with you? Why are you reacting like that?" Mama asked irritably.

Before he could get the words out, another familiar voice screamed my name loudly, and we all turned to look. Surprisingly, it was Riley. Whoa, did everyone decide to visit us today?? They must be really tired from their journeys. Riley waddled toward me with one hand resting over her round pregnant belly while little Ariana, their daughter they named after me, held tightly onto her mother’s hand. “Auntie!” little Ariana squealed before launching herself into my arms. I hugged her tightly. “You’ve gotten taller.” “I know, I’m going to be as tall and pretty as you one day. After all, we're namesakes.” She said proudly, and I smiled, placing kisses on her rosy, chubby cheeks

*Ariana* "No, I think this one looks better on me," Bel and I were arguing about which bikini suit looked better on ME. "ME" better. I'm pretty sure the ME was bold and in capital letters. Like, how can you tell me what's best for me? Do you know who I am? If you don't—which I doubt you do—I am Ariana Kings. The one and only. Last daughter of The Kings family. The princess of it all. I'm a somebody, mehn.

[Some of the videos:] Ariana's mother (late): Hey daughter, how are you? Are you feeling good? Are you enjoying this moment? I mean the moment you are watching this video. I don't know how long I am going to live. I am quite old as you can see but I am glad to have been able to hold your second child, she is cute and resembles you a bit so I think she will likely take after her father when she becomes a bright teenager. I hope you will enjoy your marriage and take care of the family more, your late father and I are proud of you. You are such a lucky child, wife, and mother to have... Ariana(accidentally walked into the video): Mum, can you stop with the video? I am here with you so stop the

Why did his smile have to drop… I have to admit it made him look cute. I tried to speak, but my voice caught in my throat. I cleared my throat and tried again. "I'm fine," I said. "But... who is this?" The little girl looked up at me and smiled. "I'm Aria," she said. "And you are...?" I forced a smile back at her, trying to compose myself. "I'm Rachel," I said. "Nice to meet you, Aria." Darius smiled at her, ruffling her hair, and I could see the pride in his eyes. "Aria is my daughter," he said. "She's 7 years old."

I was halfway down the grand staircase, heading toward the scent of fresh coffee and toasted bread, when I saw her. She was standing by a massive, abstract painting in the hallway, her arms crossed over her chest. She looked like a younger, feminine version of Ronan. The same sharp, aristocratic jawline. The same dark, piercing eyes that seemed to look right through you. She couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen, dressed in an oversized black hoodie and expensive leggings, her dark hair pulled into a messy, effortless bun. My brows lifted slightly in recognition. This had to be Aria. Ronan’s daughter.

He said proudly and he does appear super proud of himself. "How did you even get that done?" I asked him. He shrugged. "I pulled some strings." He answered before bringing out the test result of that multipurpose bag of his. I took the result from him and opened it, my eyes immediately went to where it confirmed that she was indeed my daughter before her name caught my eye. "Aria." I read out loud. "Aria Salvatore. She is five. She lives with her mother in NYC. She was born April 11, 2027, and her favorite color is pink..."